


The Thunder In His Lungs

by Civilized_muppets



Series: Bringer of Destruction [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Bittersweet Ending, But Geralt Isn't Hades, Canon Rewrite, Deity Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Hades is a Good Husband, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied Sexual Content, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion as Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), M/M, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Persephone Goes Willingly With Hades (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Sweet Hades (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), The Author Regrets Nothing, for now, no beta we die like stregobor fucking should have, there will be a happy ending I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28690653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Civilized_muppets/pseuds/Civilized_muppets
Summary: The love story of Hades and Persephone is the stuff of legend. A beautiful goddess that represented everything good and right in the world kidnapped from a field by a dark god who had fallen in love with her instantly. They say the dark god whisked her away on his chariot to the Underworld where he forced her to marry him and live out the rest of her days in the dark and dreary realm.Yes, the love story of Hades and Persephone is certainly a legendary one. Legends, however, tend to stray rather far from the truth, though they always carry a kernel of it. In actuality, Persephone wonders often where on earth the mortals got the idea that he was a woman, and if you called him ‘everything good and right in the world’ he’d probably either laugh at you or punch you in the face. He was not kidnapped (though his mother would have you believe otherwise), nor was he forced to marry his wonderful husband.***In which Jaskier is Persephone but Geralt is not Hades, and everything and nothing changes.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Hades/Persephone
Series: Bringer of Destruction [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2102988
Comments: 10
Kudos: 209





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been working on this one off and on for around two months now, and I finally decided to crank out the ending at like 5 a.m. Special thanks to the Toss It Back For Your Witcher discord and my best friend for once again listening to me ramble on about my bullshit, and supporting me as I wrote a whopping 11.7k words of this. Enjoy the story!

The portal opens in the middle of a grand throne room, and the guards are immediately on high alert. Their King simply raises a hand to stop them in their tracks. He knows the presence on the other side of that portal like the back of his hand.

What appears to be a man steps through. Chestnut brown hair, cornflower blue eyes, fair skin. Tall, dressed in what would be considered great finery for mortals. The guards relaxed fully as they recognized their other King.

The King on the throne spoke, his deep voice booming around the room, yet simultaneously softly whispered.

“Darling, you’re early. I wasn’t expecting you for another few weeks. Are you alright?”

The other King smiled softly at his husband and replied in a melodic voice.

“Of course, Hades. I simply missed you.”

Hades hums. He knows that isn’t the whole story, but he also knows that his beloved won’t tell it here.

“Well then, Persephone. Let us adjourn to your gardens, and you can tell me all about your year so far.”

Persephone’s smile suddenly becomes fragile in a way that no one other than Hades would ever notice. Whatever had happened to him in the past five months was clearly not good.

“I would love that, my dear. I haven’t seen them in so long, my poor plants must be feeling so neglected!”

Hades descends from his throne and links arms with his beloved husband before making his way out of the throne room to the gardens. Persephone keeps prattling on, seemingly happy but really nervous, about what amounted to nothing at all. The guards bow to them as they pass, their respect and loyalty to their Kings unmatched in all the realms. 

When they finally get to the gardens and away from prying eyes and ears, Persephone heaves a sigh and collapses against a tree. Hades joins him before guiding his love’s head to rest against his shoulder and waits for him to speak of things that truly mattered.

Persephone presses his forehead against Hades’ shoulder and takes a deep breath before beginning to speak.

“Everything was going great until this damned dragon hunt…”

***

The love story of Hades and Persephone is the stuff of legend. A beautiful goddess that represented everything good and right in the world kidnapped from a field by a dark god who had fallen in love with her instantly. They say the dark god whisked her away on his chariot to the Underworld where he forced her to marry him and live out the rest of her days in the dark and dreary realm.

Yes, the love story of Hades and Persephone is certainly a legendary one. Legends, however, tend to stray rather far from the truth, though they always carry a kernel of it. In actuality, Persephone wonders often where on earth the mortals got the idea that he was a woman, and if you called him ‘everything good and right in the world’ he’d probably either laugh at you or punch you in the face. He was not kidnapped (though his mother would have you believe otherwise), nor was he forced to marry his wonderful husband. 

The love story of Hades and Persephone, the true one, does not start in a field. It starts in Olympus, at the annual meeting of the gods. It was the young God of Spring’s first time attending the meeting, and he had wanted to leave it within minutes. Until he saw him.

The God of the Underworld was a force to be feared. He was dark, antisocial, and terrifying. Every minor god refused to look him in the eye. 

All but one.

The God of Spring, then called Kore, walked right up to the God of The Underworld and introduced himself as the rest of the gods held their breath. To their surprise, the young god was not devoured, nor was he rebutted. King Hades took his hand and kissed the back of it, and introduced himself in turn. 

Kore knew even then that all the rumors about the King were false, and that he had a heart of gold underneath all the darkness. Hades, for his part, wasn’t sure what to make of the young minor god who looked at him without fear, but he wasn’t going to do anything to discourage it. Being treated like he was normal was… surprisingly nice. 

It wasn’t long before Demeter, Kore’s mother, dragged him away, berating him all the while. The rest of the night passed without incident, but when Kore returned to his room he found a crow waiting on his windowsill with a letter in its beak. The letter was from Hades, apologizing to him for causing an issue with his mother.

Kore, even then, was a headstrong thing, and could not let the god apologize for something that was not his fault. So he wrote back.

The love story of Hades and Persephone is not a fast one. Hades did not fall in love with the god that would become his husband quickly. He fell in love slowly, organically, over letters secretly exchanged by crows in the dead of night. First, he considered Kore an acquaintance, then a friend, until he realized that he, the God of The Dead, was in love with the God of Spring. 

He didn’t have much time to dwell on that before Kore, never one for beating around the bush, professed his love in a letter, and asked to meet with him again in person. Hades, never one to deny himself anything when it was right in front of him, obliged.

They would meet in the dead of night in fields far away from any mortal civilization. They would talk for hours about everything and nothing, and Hades learned how Kore felt chafed and caged by his overbearing mother, and how he feared he would go mad if he had to stay in Olympus much longer. It was during one of these talks that Hades finally said what he had been thinking for months.

“Marry me.”

Kore stopped speaking abruptly, staring at Hades with wide eyes.

“I beg your pardon?”

Hades took Kore’s hand and kissed the back of it like he had done all those years ago when they met for the first time.

“Come with me to the Underworld and marry me, my flower. I love you dearly, and I will never love another more. Besides, if you were my husband, no one would be able to force you to return. I would never cage you, darling. You would be free to go where you please, whenever you please, and your mother wouldn’t be able to stop you.”

Kore took a shuddering breath, eyes boring into Hades looking for any sign of deception.

“You’d not force me to stay there with you? I could return to the surface?”

“Of course. I’d still want you with me sometimes, but not all the time. Not if it made you miserable. I want your happiness above all else. I think I can make you happy. Do you agree?”

“Yes.” Kore breathed.

“Then come with me. Marry me tonight. Break your shackles. Be free.”

And Kore did.

The marriage of Hades and Persephone was not a grand affair, nor was it forced in any way. They wrote up a contract together, going over every word until they were both satisfied. When it came time to sign the contract, Kore hesitated, before signing as ‘Persephone’. Hades raised his eyebrow.

“Bringer of destruction?”

The newly dubbed Persephone looked him in the eye, fierce and defiant as always, and nodded. 

Hades looked at his soon to be husband for a moment. The God of Spring, who brought sunshine, but also brought thunderstorms. Who brought rebirth, but also brought tornados. Who brought warmth after the cold of Winter, but also flooded the lands in his wake. Spring, the most unpredictable of the seasons, with a temper as hot as the fires of his realm.

Bringer of destruction indeed.

Hades smiled and signed the contract that would seal them together forever.

“It suits you.”

Persephone snuck back into Olympus to gather his things, and when he arrived back in the underworld Hades was waiting for him with a circlet of flowers, the stems made of gold and the petals made of jewels. An imperial topaz dahlia, an amethyst calla lily, a moonstone chamomile, an opal edelweiss, a charoite heliotrope, a spinel chrysanthemum, and a sapphire borago. Everlasting bonds, magnificent beauty, patience in adversity, courage, eternal love, devotion, and power.

“What’s this?” Persephone asked.

“Your crown. You are to be a King of this realm, after all, my equal in every way. You deserve a symbol of your new rank. I thought you would prefer flowers, but we can change it if you want.” 

Persephone stared at Hades in shock. He was a minor god, to have Hades, a major god and a King as well, declare him his equal… 

It gave Persephone more power than he could have ever dreamed, and not just politically. He had assumed that this marriage would be like every other marriage, that Hades would have more power than him, that at the end of the day he would have to obey the God of the Dead and follow his orders. He had not minded the prospect, to be honest. He trusted Hades to not force him to do anything he truly did not want to do, and Hades was a god of his word. He said that he would never cage Persephone and Persephone believed him. Besides, Persephone had always known that, as a minor god, if he ever married a major god he would be expected to be wholly obedient to them. Not that he had ever really _planned_ to be obedient to his spouse, but he knew it was _expected_ of him. He always knew he'd have to fight for every scrap of respect. To be considered an _equal_ by his husband, not just in the marriage bed but on the throne, was inconceivable until this moment. 

But Hades did not waver. He did not smile and say he was joking, he did not make the crown vanish. He walked up to Persephone to place the crown on his head, stopping the Spring God when he went to kneel before him.

“You do not kneel for anyone, my flower. Not anymore.”

Persephone had received many pleasant surprises that night and was quite frankly in a state of shock. He did not argue. He simply nodded and stood tall and proud as Hades placed the crown on his head, then took him by the hand and led him to what was now _their_ chambers. Persephone moved his things into the room, sealing their marriage before the sun rose on the surface.

It was far from traditional, but in the morning Hades announced to the entire Underworld that they had another King. 

Demeter did everything in her power to try and break the marriage, but Zeus wasn’t willing to go to war with Hades, and so the marriage stood. Even now, all these millennia later, her bitterness remains.

Part of the contract that bound Hades and Persephone stated that Persephone would leave the Underworld in the Spring to do his duties and that he could stay on the surface for the Summer if he wished, but in the Autumn and Winter, he would stay in the Underworld. This was for his protection. Persephone was weakest in those months, and as the new King of the Underworld, he was suddenly a much larger target. 

Persephone was, contrary to what you might believe, happy with this arrangement. Half a year of total freedom was a vast improvement over what he previously had, and he truly loved Hades, so he didn’t mind spending the other half in the Underworld with him. True, the palace was dark and dreary, but that was how Hades liked it, and his happiness was enough for Persephone. Besides, it’s not like he couldn’t do whatever he wished while he was in the Underworld as long as he didn’t leave it, and Hades had gifted him with acres of land around the palace to turn into his personal garden. He was never bored, that’s for sure.

When he returned in the Spring, his mother was on him immediately. Constantly trying to get him to change his mind and return to Olympus, refusing to stop calling him Kore, and when Summer rolled around Persephone returned to the Underworld immediately. Eventually, he stopped returning to Greece at all. There was another place, close enough to home but still vastly different, called the Continent, and that became where Persephone spent his Springs and Summers. 

About a hundred years into their marriage they ran into a problem. Persephone was gone for half the year, and in that time he fell in love with mortals. He never did anything untoward with them, but he still considered himself a horrible husband for not being completely faithful to his spouse. It all came out one Autumn evening in their bed, when Persephone broke down crying, admitting that he had emotionally strayed from Hades and begging his forgiveness. Hades simply shushed him gently, brushing a lock of chestnut hair behind the Spring god’s ear, before speaking.

“My darling, did you ever stop loving me?”

Persephone looked up with startled eyes.

“Of course not!”

“Then what’s the problem? You have so much love in your heart that you can’t give it all to one god, how is that a bad thing? As long as you come home to me at the end of the year, I don’t see an issue.”

Persephone was shocked into silence for a moment before gathering himself enough to reply.

“You… you really don’t mind?”

“My flower, I told you on the night that we were wed that I would never cage you, and I am a god of my word. Love whomever you want when you’re on the surface, as passionately as you want to. As long as I am the one whose bed you rest in after a long year, then I will be happy.”

And that was that. Persephone took mortal lovers when he was on the surface, but he always returned to Hades at the end of the year. He had loved men, women, humans, elves, all sorts of mortals. Sometimes he only stayed with them for a night, sometimes for the warmer months of the year, and sometimes he came back to them every Spring until they either died or pushed him away.

He did not begrudge those who pushed him away. Yes, it certainly hurt, but he understood better than almost any other god just how short mortal’s lives were, how precious every moment was. If he was no longer making his lover happy then he wouldn’t be angry at them for searching for what would. 

This pattern continued for millennia. He watched kingdoms rise and fall, people change and yet remain the same. But it was never boring, being around mortals. They were always so interesting, their short lives making them burn bright and fierce, unlike most of the gods. 

Persephone could play nice with most of the gods when the occasion called for it. He was a king, after all, he had to maintain some sense of diplomacy when the gods gathered. But around mortals, he could relax a bit more. He wasn’t a king on the Continent, not unless he was recognized as Persephone, which he rarely was, and never by ordinary humans. He was just another traveler, going from town to town to see all the sights the Continent had to offer. 

He’d seen all of them before, of course, but it was always interesting to see how things changed in between his visits. 

It was around the year 1235 when he decided to become a bard. He was no god of music, but he had always adored the art. When Hades realized this, he had begun bringing the best of bards among the dead to their court, and Persephone had long wondered what being one of them would be like. Besides, Hades had always told him he had a lovely voice and Hades did not lie to him. He went to university at Oxenfurt to learn the tools of the trade, and though it took longer than it would’ve if he could have been there year-round by 1240 he was back on the road, this time with a lute.

He picked the name Jaskier. _Buttercup._ A beautiful but deadly flower, bright and lovely and poisonous all at once. He thought it suited him nicely, and Hades agreed. So Jaskier it was.

His reception at first wasn’t the greatest, but Persephone didn’t particularly care about that. He didn’t really need the coin. His husband was the God of Riches, after all, and what was the point of _being_ the God of Riches if you couldn’t shower your beloved in more gold and jewels than he could ever need? So no, it wasn’t about getting coin from being a successful bard. It was about the rush of performing in front of an audience, the puzzle of working out how to best construct a song. It was about the _experience_ more than anything else, and failing was a part of that experience.

Early on in his career as a bard, he came across a Witcher. He knew who he was almost immediately. Geralt of Rivia, the Butcher of Blaviken. The white hair gave him away. 

Most would have looked away, ignored him completely, and tried not to draw his attention. Not Persephone. Persephone looked at the Butcher of Blaviken and saw a mortal reflection of his husband. Not in the looks department, for they looked almost nothing alike. This Witcher had long, straight, white hair in contrast to Hades’ short, curly, black locks. The Witcher’s eyes were yellow where Hades’ were the deep brown of the earth. Their noses, jawlines, and mouth shape were completely different. The only area they were comparable was the height, both a bit taller than Persephone himself, and he was hardly short.

No, the Witcher reminded Persephone of Hades in the way he expected to be treated. Persephone could see how the Witcher expected to be feared and derided. He could see how Geralt of Rivia had hardened himself, or tried to. How he had managed to convince himself that it was fine, that he deserved it, that it was the natural order of things for it to be this way. All in all, it was very reminiscent of what Persephone had seen when he first saw Hades all those millennia ago. 

So, he did what he had done back then. He walked up and introduced himself.

His reception was certainly a lot colder this time, but Persephone was older than every civilization on the Continent. He could be patient. 

He’ll be honest, he fell into lust with Geralt almost immediately. The man was attractive, and in terms of personality Persephone certainly had a type. By the end of the adventure with the elves (who thankfully did not recognize him, mostly due to the fact that it was Spring and therefore Persephone was at full power and he could easily conceal himself) he had begun to fall in love with the Witcher. By the end of the Summer, after he and Geralt had tumbled into bed a few times, he’d fallen head over heels and knew that he would find Geralt again next Spring. 

But first, he had to go home.

In the final week of Summer, Persephone told Geralt that he was actually a noble who had to return to help look after his land for the latter half of the year.

Not a lie, but not the whole truth either. Persephone rarely told his lovers who he was. It tended to lead to... complications. He was honest with them about being married and the arrangement he had with his spouse about taking other lovers, but they tended to… not take it well when they found out that this spouse was the God of the Underworld. 

Some demanded he make them immortal, as though that was something he could even do. His husband held domain over the dead, not death itself. Very important distinction. Besides, even if he did hold domain over death he wouldn’t tamper with the sacred balance because his husband's mortal lover demanded it. Others demanded special treatment in the Underworld, such as automatically being granted the Elysium, eternal paradise. Others still grew fearful for Persephone, those damned rumors his mother had spread about his marriage making them believe that he was under duress. One had even tried to imprison him to “save” him from having to return.

Needless to say, things were much easier and _safer_ in the long run if Persephone kept the fact that he was a god a secret from them. He didn’t particularly like doing it, but he had learned from experience that it was necessary. Geralt was no exception. But Geralt could also detect lies, as Persephone had learned, so a vague explanation that was technically true was the best way to go.

Geralt accepted this explanation slightly reluctantly. He often told himself that the bard was annoying and that he wished he would leave, but in truth, he cared for him and didn’t ever want him to go. It was nice being treated like he was a normal person instead of the Butcher of Blaviken for once, and he feared once they parted ways they would never come across each other again.

Persephone, who had guessed most of this due to how painfully similar Geralt was to the Hades of eons ago, smiled and assured the Witcher that he’d find him in the Spring. Geralt nodded, and when the time came for Persephone to leave, he clapped the bard on the shoulder in a friendly gesture before they split ways, and Persephone had a skip in his step all the way to the middle of the forest, far away from any civilization and any human witnesses. When he got there he quickly changed into something more appropriate for his station before pulling out the black opal necklace Hades had given him the first time he returned to the surface for Spring. He pressed his lips to the gem and whispered the word for ‘home’ in his native tongue and held it out in front of him, opening a portal straight to the throne room of the palace of the Underworld.

Hades was waiting for him, along with their entire court and all the guards and servants to celebrate his return, as well as their wedding anniversary. Melinoë in particular, as always, was practically bouncing on her feet in her excitement to see him. 

Melinoë hadn’t been something they had planned when they got married. Both Hades and Persephone had assumed they’d never had children due to the fact that they were both men, and were quite alright with that. It wasn’t until about 500 years into their marriage that that changed.

It was once again the yearly meeting of the gods, hosted in Olympus as always. Persephone, personally, would prefer to never set foot in Olympus ever again, but unfortunately for diplomacy reasons and keeping the rumors about their marriage at bay as much as they could (harder to speculate that he was being kept in a dungeon if he was seen clearly happy next to his husband), he had to be there at least once a year. 

Persephone had left the palace and was walking through the gardens alone. He had needed a breather from all the politics. He was scrutinizing the frankly depressing looking pomegranate tree and thinking about how his was so much better when he heard muffled sobbing and decided to investigate.

What he had found was a child around what in human years would be 7 years of age, dressed in ripped and dirty clothing. She was curled into a ball, her legs pulled up to her chest and her forehead resting her knees, shaking like a leaf. Persephone crouched down beside her and spoke in a gentle voice.

“Child? What’s wrong?”

The girl looked up, startled. She took in his vibrant and luxurious clothing, the plethora of jewels he wore, and the golden flower crown on his head. She immediately bowed her head.

“Your majesty! I’m, I’m sorry for bothering you, I’ll go somewhere else”

Persephone gently shushed her.

“None of that now, my dear, I promise it’s not a bother. What’s your name?”

The girl looked at him with wide eyes, biting her lip.

“Melinoë, your majesty.”

Persephone smiled a bright and charming smile.

“Melinoë, what a lovely name! Now, what has made you so upset, Melinoë?”

Melinoë sniffed and curled up once again.

“My- my powers are starting to come in. The Fates told my father what my Domain would be this week. He… he didn’t like it.”

Persephone winced in sympathy. When the Fates told his mother what he would be god of, she had been proud. Spring was a noble Domain to have, according to Olympic society. But he had seen what had happened to some of his peers whose Domains were not so “acceptable”. Clearly, this girl had gotten some of the worst of it.

“I’m sorry to hear that, dear. May I ask what your Domain will be?”

Melinoë looked down in shame. “Nightmares and madness.” She said quietly.

Oh, that was certainly not an “acceptable” Domain by Olympic standards. Persephone had learned much from his time in the Underworld, and learned that many of the biases he had grown up with were just plain wrong. He had long questioned them before his marriage, but being in the Underworld and meeting gods of death and destruction has proven beyond a doubt that Olympic opinions were often bullshit.

This girl, however, was still young. She would not grow to question these biases for decades, and she would likely carry the damage they had done to her for the rest of her immortal life. Persephone was about to speak, to explain to her that there was nothing wrong with her future Domain when she spoke again.

“My father said he never wanted to see me again. He disowned me.”

Persephone blinked in shock. This poor girl no longer had a family, just because of the kind of power she would one day wield. He was horrified, absolutely horrified. But an idea was starting to form in the back of his mind. He’d have to discuss with Hades, but…

“May I hug you, Melinoë?”

The girl practically threw himself into his arms, beginning to sob again in earnest. He held her as she cried herself to sleep, the poor dear exhausted. Persephone was still sitting there, trying to figure out what he should do, when Hades found him.

“Petal? You’ve been gone for an hour, is everything alri- who’s this?”

Persephone motioned for him to be quiet and sit down and quickly explained the situation to him. Hades reached an arm around his shoulders while he was still holding the child.

“You want to take her in, don’t you?”

Persephone looked at him. “I do. But not if you don’t want to.”

Hades hummed and then smiled.

“Persephone, she sounds like a lovely girl who desperately needs someone to care for her. If you are willing to do that, then I will do everything I can to help you, and I’ll care for her when you’re on the surface. It sounds like she’d fare far better in my court than Zeus’ anyway.”

Persephone gave Hades a beaming smile and gently shook Melinoë awake. She blinked open her eyes sleepily before her eyes landed on Hades and she hurriedly bowed her head and greeted him properly. Persephone grinned down at her.

“Dear, I’ve spoken to Hades and we’ve reached an agreement. If you’d like to come with us back to the underworld, you’re more than welcome to.”

Melinoe blinked up at him with watery eyes. “You- you want me?”

Persephone smiled gently. “We do.”

She was already in his arms, but she nearly tackled him again.

“Yes yes yes!”

Hades chuckled. “The gathering is over. We can leave whenever we want. You prepare the portal, flower. I’ll say our goodbyes.”

In the present, Melinoë threw herself into his arms, much like she had all those years ago. She was a lot bigger now, a fully grown goddess, but she was not above hugging her fathers when the occasion called for it. Thanatos, the chief advisor to the kings, chuckled good-naturedly and clapped him on the shoulder in a friendly gesture. Finally, Hades swooped down from his throne and kissed him passionately.

The party lasted long into what would be night on the surface, and when Hades and Persephone retired to their chambers Persephone told his husband all about the wonderful Witcher he had met on the road.

“A Witcher, you say?” Hades asked

Persephone smiled. “Yes. He’s very noble, all those rumors about them are completely unfounded as far as I can tell.”

“It’s not that, my flower. It’s just that a Witcher’s path is very dangerous. I worry for you, following him on it. I know that you’re safe in the Spring, but in the Summer… Would you, perhaps, allow me to place some hoplites on you? They would be invisible to all but you, and they would not impede you. They would only step in to protect you if you were in danger, and only in the Summer. Is that agreeable, darling?”

Persephone thought about it for a moment, before deciding there really wasn’t any harm in acquiescing to his husband’s request. It would definitely be advantageous, to have an extra layer of protection in the Summer, especially if he was going to keep being so close to the battles. He couldn’t be _killed_ , per se, but he could definitely be _hurt._ Besides, it would make his husband feel better. So Persephone agreed. 

He would come to appreciate his husband's foresight in the coming years.

Traveling on his own when he was nothing more than a nomad was one thing. Yes, he dressed in luxurious clothing, and generally traveled alone, and didn’t look like much of a threat, which ordinarily would have made him quite the target for thieves. However, even in the Summer, Persephone had enough power to make the mortals think him unremarkable despite all evidence to the contrary. He was protected by the veil of anonymity. 

Things were different now. Between his choice of career and traveling with a Witcher, that anonymity was ripped away. He wouldn’t change it, as it was certainly fun and fulfilling, but he couldn’t deny that his life was a lot more dangerous now. It didn’t matter so much in the Spring, when he was at the height of his not inconsiderable power, but in the Summer… well, let’s just say he quickly lost count of how often the hoplites had to discreetly step in to rescue him, be it from bandits or whatever monster Geralt was hunting. 

Almost 10 years went by like this, and Persephone had never had more fun when he was on the surface. The thrill of the hunt wasn’t something he had ever thought would interest him, and while he wasn’t actually the hunter it was still interesting to watch and be a part of. His song “Toss a Coin” was an absolute hit, and he and Geralt were closer than ever. 

And then he was invited to play in Queen Calanthe of Cintra’s court.

He could _see_ the Treads the Fates were weaving on the invitation. He _knew_ something was going to happen at the banquet. But he also knew that to try to defy the Fates was a truly _terrible_ idea, even for the gods. So he accepted the invitation and hoped that it would all turn out okay in the end.

Until he saw Geralt again that evening and realized that the Threads were wrapped around him as well. A _lot_ of them, curled around every limb and finger.

Well, fuck.

He hadn’t wanted to bring Geralt with him to the banquet, hadn’t wanted to get him involved in whatever was going to occur, but clearly he was already involved. So Persephone sighed internally and used his godly powers, which were in full force due to the fact that it was Spring, to conceal his deceit from Geralt as he fed him a lie about protecting him from cuckolded husbands. Geralt, though he was certainly unhappy about it, was a good friend and lover, and beyond that a noble man. So, of course, he agreed.

Something Persephone had learned very early on is that although he was honest about the relationship and arrangement he had with his husband, mortals would often lie about the relationships they had with theirs. A woman would tell him, after he told her about his spouse, that her husband was fine with her having other lovers, only for that husband to later chase him off or attempt to kill him. It hadn’t taken him long to recognize that this was not a one off occurrence, and cheating on your spouse was not something Persephone could abide by or participate in, not knowingly at least.

His arrangement with Hades was different. Hades knew about every lover that Persephone took, no matter how little time he spent with them, and Persephone had never done anything untoward with anyone other than his husband until Hades had clearly told him it was alright. Mortals, he had found, often didn’t discuss these things with their lovers, and even if Persephone wasn’t morally against sleeping with others behind your spouse’s back, it often led to messes that he didn’t want to get into.

That isn’t to say he wasn’t promiscuous. He had discussed having a similar arrangement with Geralt at the beginning of their relationship. Persephone could sleep with whomever he wanted, and Geralt could do the same, and their beds/bedrolls were always open to the other, as long as both parties wanted company that night. Over time, they started sleeping with other people less and less, bar Hades in the colder months of the year of course, but it still happened. Persephone was careful not to sleep with anyone who was married, but Geralt didn’t know that. The lie about the cuckolded husbands was a believable one, even if it gave Geralt a false impression of Persephone’s choices when it came to sexual partners.

When they walked into the banquet hall, Persephone could see the Threads of Fate weaving around the entire room. Particularly, however, around Princess Pavetta. She was nearly covered in them, but they seemed to be gathered around her stomach in particular. An unborn child, perhaps?

Persephone was quickly distracted as a Druid immediately greeted Geralt as an old friend, before turning to him. Upon seeing him, the Druid’s eyes grew wide and lightened with recognition.

Shit.

Druids were, above all else, beholden to nature, even above their mortal monarchs. Persephone, as the highest-ranking Seasonal God due to his status as an immortal king, was one of the most respected of gods among them. It wasn’t a surprise that this Druid had recognized him, but it could _very quickly_ cause a problem.

He could see the Druid’s head begin to tilt down as he began to bow, and Persephone needed to nip that in the bud _right now._ The court Druid, as he assumed he was based on his clothing, bowing to the evening’s bard would raise quite a few questions, questions Persephone didn’t particularly want to answer, especially not in front of Geralt. So he stuck out his hand and introduced himself.

“Oh, you’re a friend of Geralt’s? Wonderful! I’m Jaskier, the entertainment for the evening.”

The Druid blinked in confusion, but Persephone’s smile was sharp and his eyes were very clearly saying _do not ask,_ and he clearly decided to just go with it for the moment, shaking the god’s hand.

“And I am Mousesack, the court Druid. Lovely to meet you, Jaskier.”

Persephone’s smile got brighter and less threatening when Mousesack decided to play along. He hoped that a reveal of his identity wasn’t what the Fates had in mind for tonight, but as long as the Druid didn’t give him away he should be safe.

“And you as well! Unfortunately, I _do_ have a job to do tonight, so I must be off to do it. I’ll speak with you both later, yes?”

Geralt gave an affirming _hmm,_ and Mousesack nodded slowly, seemingly still in a state of shock and confusion. Persephone gave them another smile, swung his lute around to his front, and walked away to begin singing for the court.

About an hour later he took a break to “rest his voice”, which he didn’t really need to do, but it would be odd for a human bard to sing all through the evening without stopping. He walked out to an empty balcony, used his power to make sure that whatever happened on it would go unheard and unseen, and only had to wait for a moment before Mousesack joined him.

The Druid immediately dropped down to one knee, head bowed in reverence.

“Your Majesty. I am honored to be in your presence.” 

Persephone gave him a small smile, while internally sighing. He hadn’t had to deal with people treating him like the King he was in the mortal world for at least a century, and it was exhausting having to deal with it without his husband by his side.

“You may rise, loyal Druid.”

Mousesack rose back to his full height, though his head was still bowed in deference.

“May I ask, your Grace, why you are here tonight?”

Persephone leaned against the railing, hoping that his more casual behavior would convince Mousesack to drop a bit of the formality.

“Well, I’m a bard while I’m on the surface for now, and I’ve gained a fair bit of renown over the last decade. I’ve been to several courts, this is just the latest.”

The Druid looked at him slightly dubiously.

“And it has nothing to do with Destiny’s presence in this hall?”

Persephone closed his eyes for a moment before answering.

“Oh, alright, I admit that that had a hand in me coming here. The Fate’s Threads were all over the invitation. Even us gods know better than to defy them. I would have been a fool not to come. And when I saw their Threads on Geralt, I knew I had to bring him with me.”

Mousesack blinked in surprise, worry quickly taking over his features.

“Geralt? He’s involved in whatever will happen?”

Persephone hummed unhappily in agreement. “Yes, unfortunately. I would have found some way to warn him, but he scoffs at the forces your people call Destiny and would have refused to come just to be contrary. Who knows what would have happened then.”

Mousesack was silent for a moment before he gathered himself enough to speak again.

“Have you known the Witcher for a long time, your majesty?”

Persephone tilted his head. “For your standards of time, yes, I suppose. I’ve spent all my time on the surface with him for the past decade or so. He’s a good friend.”

While practically everyone in the Underworld was aware of the arrangement Persephone had with Hades, no one among the rest of the gods or the living knew of it. Hades wouldn’t particularly _care_ if the whole universe knew, and neither would Persephone for that matter, were it not for one tiny problem:

Demeter.

Persephone’s mother continued to try to break Hades and Persephone’s marriage. If she heard that Persephone was sleeping with other people, she would use it as a weapon to try and break them apart. It wouldn’t _work,_ of course. Hades had the Army of the Dead. A near-infinite, incredibly loyal, unkillable force that was nigh on unbeatable in battle. If Zeus tried to go to war with Hades, he would lose, plain and simple. No one talked about it, but everyone knew that Hades was the most powerful king among the gods from his army alone, not to mention the power that the god himself wielded.

Zeus would not do anything to disrupt the peace the gods had reached millennia ago, no matter how much Demeter bitched and whined. No matter how hard she tried, she would never manage to break Persephone’s marriage to Hades.

But that didn’t mean that Hades and Persephone were particularly keen to give her another way to try.

So, Persephone referred to Geralt as a friend instead of a lover and hoped that Geralt had not mentioned their relationship to Mousesack. If he had, he hoped that Mousesack had enough respect for him to keep his mouth shut about it.

“But he does not know of your identity, does he?” Mousesack continued questioning.

Persephone hesitated for a moment before answering. “I generally do not tell my mortal friends who I truly am. It tends to make things… messy. Much easier if I maintain the guise of a regular mortal while I am among them. You’re the first to recognize me up here in quite a while. And if you could keep my identity to yourself, I will grant you a favor.”

Persephone immediately stopped talking. Why had he done that? A favor from a god was no small thing, it was dangerous to hand them out like that, especially to someone who knew of the power he wielded.

His eyes caught a golden shimmer wrapped around his pinky. A Thread. Well, at least that explains it. He couldn’t take back the offer now, and he wouldn’t refuse the Fates.

“Of course, your majesty. Whatever you wish.”

Persephone nodded at Mousesack decisively before smiling at him.

“We should head back to the ballroom before we’re missed.”

Mousesack nodded and bowed again. “Of course. It was a pleasure to meet you, sire.”

“And you as well, Druid.”

They headed back to the main hall, and Persephone had barely gotten one more song out before everything went to shit.

As it turns out, he had been right about the Princess being with child. A child Geralt claimed by the Law of Surprise.

Well, at least life with the Witcher was never boring.

Calanthe banished Geralt from her lands and Persephone, after giving one last nod to Mousesack, followed behind him at a much less brisk pace. Eist had stopped him, saying that he had performed wonderfully and would be welcome back in Cintra’s court as long as he didn’t bring Geralt with him from here on out, and Persephone had smiled and said he’d be delighted to return.

Once he and Geralt were well outside the city, they stopped to set up camp. Geralt was upset, and Persephone felt kind of guilty for it. He _had_ brought Geralt to the banquet, after all. But the Fates always got what they wanted in the end. Geralt would have ended up with the Prince or Princess as his Child Surprise one way or another, fighting the Fates on this would have only made it happen in a worse way. Geralt was intact, at least, and that’s what Persephone chose to focus on. 

Of course, he couldn’t tell Geralt this. The Witcher openly scoffed at things like Destiny, and explaining how the supposedly completely human bard had _known_ that something was going to happen that night and that Geralt had to be there for it would certainly not be fun. But he still felt guilty about it, and after hours of silence, he finally opened his mouth and apologized. Geralt huffed at him.

“Not your fault. You couldn’t have known what would happen.”

Well, that was true in a way. He hadn't known _what_ would happen, but he had known that something major _would._ He was relieved, to be honest. Usually, when the Fates take this much of an interest in someone it leads directly to their demise. Geralt was still alive, and the Threads had left him completely now, beyond the one that linked him to Pavetta’s unborn babe.

While death wouldn’t have left him unreachable to _Persephone,_ it _would_ leave him unreachable to the father figure and brothers Persephone had pieced together vague pictures of over the years, at least until they died as well, and possibly beyond that depending on if they were as noble as Geralt. And even though Persephone would still be able to see Geralt, it would only be as a friend. He didn’t have any lovers while he was in the Underworld other than his husband. And Persephone truly loved Geralt and would mourn the loss of their romantic relationship so soon. He knew it would end one way or another one day, but he was glad that day was not today. 

Again, Persephone couldn’t very well talk about what was on his mind, not with Geralt at least, so he took a page out of the wolf’s book and hummed noncommittally. Geralt rolled his eyes and held out an arm beside him, parallel to the ground, in a clear invitation. Persephone, for all his grand godly power, was powerless to deny his mortal lover this and sat beside him.

Geralt wrapped an arm around his shoulders, thumb stroking up and down. Persephone felt his muscles release some of the stress they had been carrying since he had seen the Threads of Fate on the invitation to the banquet. It was over, for now at least. Persephone had no doubt that this Child Surprise thing would come back to bite Geralt in the ass, but it probably wouldn’t be for years yet. He could relax now.

He leaned his head against Geralt’s shoulder and closed his eyes, and Geralt tilted his own head to rest on Persephone’s. 

It was a nice moment.

Geralt hummed after a minute or two, before asking Persephone a question.

“You didn’t need me tonight. No one threatened you. You could have gone alone.”

Persephone very deliberately did not react and began to use his power to ensure that Geralt detected no lies from him.

“Yes, well, the Duke I was worried about wasn’t in attendance tonight. Not sure why, to be honest. You’d think that the betrothal feast of the Princess would be a mandatory event for any high ranking nobility.”

Geralt let out a quiet _hmm,_ and Persephone had gotten rather good at translating those over the years. This was a hum of acceptance.

Persephone hated lying to him. But it had to be done.

“Next time, just turn the invitation down.”

Persephone nodded against Geralt’s shoulder, and then the Witcher's hand was cupping his chin and tilting his face up for a kiss, and that was the end of the night’s conversation. 

The years went by rather quickly, in Persephone’s opinion. Geralt took his contracts, Persephone sang in taverns and courts and bardic competitions, gaining more and more renown with each passing year. It was a strange feeling, to be known for something he had _done_ rather than who he married.

Persephone had no doubt that if it weren’t for his husband his name would not be well known at all. He would not get nearly as much worship, and therefore he would not be nearly as powerful. Hades had done everything in his power to spread the word of Persephone, under his chosen name, to the mortals. Even if his mother had twisted the story, the mortals still knew it, knew his name, believed in him. And that belief gave him power greater than the other Seasonal Gods, mostly known only to those who were devoted to nature.

He was grateful to his husband for this. Hades had always, for their entire marriage, done his best to keep them on equal footing, and Persephone, once he had gotten over his shock over it, had always appreciated it immensely. But at the end of the day, the god Persephone was worshiped mainly because of his husband.

Being Jaskier was different. Jaskier was a skilled bard who had earned every bit of his fame and success through hard work and determination. Jaskier wasn’t quite a persona, just another part of Persephone that he didn’t get to let out that often. While he was on the surface, his general goal was usually to go widely unnoticed. Mortal fame was new to him, but he was finding that he liked it.

Hades had remarked on the last day of Winter that he looked as though he were glowing with happiness, and Persephone had smiled and told him of how life on the surface had finally gotten truly exciting again after it had gotten a little stale. Hades had grinned, a thing full of teeth that would have terrified any other, god and mortal alike, but that Persephone found terribly endearing. He knew that that smile meant that Hades was happy that he was happy, and when the time came for Spring Hades gave him one last hug and passionate kiss before Persephone walked through the portal out into the middle of the wilderness.

Persephone changed his clothes to something less kingly and more bardly, though every outfit he owned was equally as dramatic, and asked the forest to point him to Geralt of Rivia.

He was in luck. Geralt was only a few hundred feet away, fishing for something in a stream.

“Geralt, dear heart! I’ve missed you! How was your Autumn and Winter?”

Geralt grunted, a sound that Persephone interpreted as _I’m absolutely not listening to you._ Persephone huffed at him and tried again.

“Come now Geralt, it can’t have been that bad! Say, what are you looking for?”

Geralt grunted again, and really, he was usually a man of few words but usually he could at least muster a _hello_ after six months apart.

“Djinn.”

Oh no. No, no, no, no, he can’t have heard that right. Djinn were _bad_ news, and while Persephone was at his most powerful at the moment and could probably easily reverse whatever the djinn did, _explaining_ that would be a pain in the ass. Better to nip this in the bud right now.

“And… why are you looking for a djinn?” Persephone inquired. Maybe he could fix whatever problem Geralt had himself, that would certainly be a better alternative-

“I can’t sleep.”

... _What the fuck._

Surely Geralt wasn’t foolish enough to go to a djinn to get some _sleep?_ Djinn should never be used for their wishes, mainly because they tended to twist the wish into the worst-case scenario. People who sought them out either didn’t know this, were arrogant enough to believe they could trick the djinn themselves, or were desperate enough to not care. Geralt, as a Witcher, certainly knew the dangers of djinn, and he was nothing but realistic when it came to the things he fought. If he was seeking one out anyway…

Persephone had seen the effects of sleep deprivation on living mortals before. Geralt must have been awake for quite a while if he was being _this_ irrational. Persephone had to put a stop to this before something truly terrible happened. 

The God of Spring walked up to Geralt and gently put a hand on his shoulder. Geralt stilled, seeming to fight with himself on whether to shrug Persephone’s hand off or not. After a moment, he seemed to decide to let it stay. 

“Geralt, my love, this is not the answer. If you’re tired and can’t sleep, at least let me _try_ to help before you resort to such drastic measures. Calling upon a djinn is never a good idea, you know that. Come on, let’s go to wherever you’ve set up camp and I’ll see what I can do.”

Geralt turned to him, and now that Persephone could see his face he could see the exhaustion clear in his eyes. Geralt blinked slowly, and nodded, letting Persephone lead him away from the river.

Neither of them noticed the clay pot that was in Geralt’s net. 

Persephone silently asked the forest where Geralt’s camp was, and gently led him back to it. If Geralt thought it was strange that he knew where his camp was without asking, he didn’t mention it. Probably didn’t have the brainpower to ponder it at the moment, the poor man. Persephone gently laid the WItcher down with his head in the Spring Gods lap, where he began to gently detangle the moon-white hair. He hummed a lullaby under his breath and gently used his power to lull Geralt to sleep after who knows how long. Yes, it was morning, and this would probably fuck up Geralt’s sleeping schedule, but the Witcher just meditated through the night half the time anyway, and Persephone couldn’t bear to make him wait any longer.

By the time Geralt woke, it was midway through the next day. Persephone had eased him off of his lap a few hours in and used the time to himself to write a few new ballads. They’d certainly need work, but it was a good start. 

When golden eyes finally blinked open, Persephone was on the other side of the camp, writing some new lyrics in his notebook.

“Jaskier?” he asked, voice still heavy with sleep.

Persephone hummed and looked up from his notebook.

“Are you feeling better, darling?”

Geralt nodded, looking at him in confusion.

Persephone nodded decisively before closing his notebook with a _snap_ and putting it aside.

“Good. Now that you’ve gotten some sleep, would you like to explain to me what the _fuck_ you were thinking? Honestly, Geralt! Do you have any idea how badly that could have turned out if I hadn’t happened upon you? What am I saying, of course you do, you’re a damned _Witcher!_ You were willing to risk a wish from a _djinn_ for some _sleep?_ What the fuck!”

Geralt glared at him heatedly but didn’t say anything. He rolled over, and Persephone thought he heard something shatter beneath him and Geralt hiss slightly, but before he could investigate it Geralt spoke.

“Made sense at the time.”

Persephone huffed. “Yes, because you were sleep-deprived and probably could have convinced yourself the sky is green. Really Geralt, you’re a grown man, I shouldn’t have to stop you from making such stupid decisions-”

“I just wanted some damn peace!”

And then everything hurt quite a lot.

Geralt was grabbing his shoulders, desperately calling his pseudonym, and Persephone used that to focus himself. While he was certainly capable of healing whatever this was completely in a second, Geralt had clearly seen it, and explaining how the completely human and unmagical Jaskier had managed to overpower a djinn was not a conversation he wanted to have. So he healed everything but the surface wounds and decided to wait for an opportunity to heal the rest of it without having to explain himself.

Geralt took him to an elven healer, who told Geralt that the wound was magical in nature and there was little he could do. Geralt managed to pry the information about a mage that was kept in the mayor’s manor out of the healer, and they were on their way, with Persephone acting more injured than he really was.

The mage was a woman, as it turned out. Geralt offered to pay her, whatever the price, and Persephone would feel bad for his deception if he couldn’t easily replace whatever Geralt paid her later.

Geralt placed him on a bed and the mage herded him out the door. By the time she turned around, Persephone was sitting up on the bed, every trace of his wounds gone. She blinked in surprise, but before she could say anything Perseohone beat her to the punch.

“So, how much to keep quiet about this? Even from Geralt?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You healed yourself. How?”

“Oh, I could have done it any time. I just don’t want Geralt to know that. So, I’ll ask again. How much for you to tell him and anyone else who asks that you’ve healed me?”

“You must be quite powerful to have overcome a djinn by yourself, yet I’ve never seen you. Ban Ard?”

He chuckled. “I am no mage, dear. How. Much.”

“Make your final wishes, so I may harness the djinn,” she said.

Persephone tsked. “I’m afraid that I am not the one with the wishes. And even if I was, you do realize how truly terrible of an idea that is, right?”

The mage glared at him. “I’m sure I can handle it. If you can’t give me the djinn, then I want ten thousand crowns.”

Ten thousand crowns was the kind of coin that not even mortal kings could throw around. The mage likely expected him to not be able to pay. Luckily for him, Persephone was no _mortal_ king. 

“Done.” He snapped his fingers and the amount she had requested appeared on the table from his and Hades’ vault. The mage narrowed her eyes again.

“I felt no chaos.”

“I told you. I am no mage.” He said amused.

“Then what are you?” she asked.

“A bard, for the moment. The master bard Jaskier, to be precise. And you are?”

She hesitated for a moment, but decided to tell him. 

“Yennefer of Vengerberg. Graduate of Aretuza.”

He nodded at her. “Well met, Yennefer of Vengerberg. I trust that this interaction will stay between us?”

She snapped her fingers and the coin disappeared. “That it will. I’ll tell him you’re in a healing sleep for now.”

Persephone nodded his approval, using his power to make sure she would keep her word, and she spun on her heel and left. Persephone considered writing a letter to Hades about the situation he had found himself in, before he winced and decided against it. Hades was as protective as can be, and if he found out that the Witcher had partially been to blame for Persephone getting hurt, even if it was completely accidental and only for a moment, well… 

It wouldn’t be good for Geralt’s continued health. 

So Persephone resigned himself to quietly writing music for the next few hours. He didn't have his lute, but he could still write lyrics.

He had only managed a few pages when the manor began to shake. 

Persephone hurriedly grabbed his notebook and rushed out of the building, crashing right into Geralt in the doorway. The Witcher blinked at him.

“Jaskier? You’re awake?”

Persephone cringed and began to use his power to conceal his deception like he had before the banquet all those years ago.

“Yes, woke up just in time to feel the building begin to shake. Now, if you’re agreeable, I’d very much like to _get away from it.”_

Geralt looked past him, into the manor. “The mage, did you see her?”

“I’m afraid not. Geralt, seriously, we need to get away from the collapsing building.”

Geralt looked at him, stubborn as an ox. “She saved your life, Jaskier. I can’t let her die.”

That wasn’t true, actually, but he had paid the mage 10,000 crowns to keep that fact quiet, and he wasn’t going to render his investment worthless now. 

Before he could say anything, Geralt pushed past him to go back inside the manor.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Persephone now had a choice. He could do what Geralt certainly expected him to do, as an ordinary human, and run away from the collapsing manor. Or he could say ‘fuck it’ to the charade and run in after Geralt.

Well, Persephone had been saying ‘fuck it’ to things he probably shouldn’t for millennia, he wasn’t going to stop now. Besides, he had no desire to see Geralt in his realm so soon. 

He burst into the room to hear Geralt yell something he couldn’t make out. Persephone watched in shock as a golden Thread of Fate stretched from Geralt to Yennefer. The djinn, which had been inside the mage, gave a loud screech, and Yennefer slumped forward as it left her. She groaned.

“The djinn… where did it go?”

And then the roof fell in.

It would have crushed them both, had Persephone not managed to subtly shield them in time. He’d not have bothered with the mage, but she _had_ helped him, and even though he’d already repaid her he was not the type to reward help with indifference.

Yennefer opened her eyes and saw him standing in the doorway. Her eyes were clearly asking a question, but before she could actually ask it Geralt, who seemingly hadn’t noticed Persephone was even there, was in front of her. They began to bicker, before she pulled him down into a kiss.

Well, then. It seemed that those two were about to get busy, and Persephone doubted he’d be welcome much longer, so he quietly left the manor. The mayor was in hysterics, of course, but Persephone didn’t particularly care about that. He went to go find Roach, who loved him, as all animals did. 

When he found her, he gave her an apple he had conjured and brushed her mane as he waited for Geralt to come back.

When he did, he looked vaguely guilty.

“Geralt? What’s wrong?” Persephone asked.

Geralt grunted. “Didn’t realize you were there, when Yennefer and I started…”

Persephone smiled gently at him.

“It’s alright darling, I don’t mind. Tensions were high, and you thought I would have run outside. Besides, we agreed long ago that we could lay with others, yes? You know of my husband and our arrangement. Why would I have an issue with it now?”

Geralt’s lips upturned slightly. 

“You’re right. I was heading towards Vizima. Want to come along?”

Persephone clasped him on the shoulders and gave him a soft look. “Always.”

They kept running into Yennefer after that. Geralt had tied himself to her, so it was no surprise to Persephone. Yennefer seemed wary of him, at first. She, unlike Geralt, had seen some of his power and wealth and knew there was more to her than met the eye. She became especially wary of him once she discovered that he and Geralt were lovers. She probably expected him to be jealous, or possessive. And, If Persephone were not who he was, he might have been. But he was millennia old, and with that age came wisdom. 

He and Geralt had agreed years ago that they could both take lovers on the side, and while this was the first time either of them had taken another lover that lasted longer than a night, bar Hades of course, Persephone truly didn’t mind. He’d be _quite_ the hypocrite if he did, after all.

Yennefer seemed to realize that he had no ill will towards her, and she stopped tiptoeing around him as much. Their banter became more comfortable, and over the years Persephone could honestly say that he could call her a friend. He hoped that she could call him one as well. 

It was the Summer of 1262 that everything came to a head. 

Persephone had been traveling with Geralt for 22 years now, and he knew that it wouldn’t be long before the Witcher started to notice something amiss. The fact that the supposedly human bard hadn’t aged a day in over two decades, for one. Persephone was pondering what to do about it. 

He could age himself, but gods didn’t really understand how humans aged, not even Persephone, and every time he’d tried he’d looked… off, and the mortals could usually tell something wasn’t right. He could claim to have some elven blood in his family tree, but that excuse would only last so long, especially since Geralt’s medallion didn’t react around him.

Or, he could end things, stop traveling with Geralt for good, and create a new identity again.

He didn’t exactly like that option. For one, he still loved Geralt, and two, he genuinely _liked_ being a bard. If he stopped being Jaskier, he couldn’t go back to it for at least a century, lest he be recognized by others. He was having quite the dilemma. 

If he had known that the choice would soon be taken out of his hands entirely, he wouldn’t have spent so much time agonizing over it.

When the dragon in the shape of a man saw him, he immediately recognized him, and it was only Persephone shaking his head at the dragon that stopped him from dropping down to one knee. His bodyguards, a pair of fierce-looking women, appeared confused by the dragon's reaction to him. Geralt came back, the dragon introduced himself as Borch, and they all sat down for a meal in the tavern.

The dragon then proposed a dragon hunt, seriously, how weird could his life get?

The dragon introduced the dwarves and then Yennefer walked in with a knight, and Geralt went over to greet them. Jaskier waited until he was suitably distracted, then nodded at the dragon. Borch bowed his head.

“Your majesty, I am Villentretenmerth. This is Téa and Véa. Téa, Véa, may I introduce you to His Majesty King Persephone, God Of Spring, Ruler of the Underworld. We are humbled to be in your presence.”

Téa and Véa looked at him in shock, before hurriedly bowing their heads as well. Persephone held up his hands.

“Please, none of that now. I am not properly your king until you die, which I hope will not be for some time yet. Besides, at the moment I am assuming the guise of a humble bard, so let’s not do anything to ruin that, yes?”

Villentretenmerth nodded seriously. “Of course, your majesty. Whatever you wish.”

The first day of the hunt goes by rather slowly. Nothing exciting happens beyond one of the dwarves straying off the path and getting attacked by a hirikka. Persephone and Geralt had tried to calm everyone down and explain that if they gave it food it would peacefully depart, but the knight that was with Yennefer rushed forward and killed it anyway.

Persephone didn’t very much like this knight. 

The knight, Eyck of Denesle, then decides to cook the hirikka, the idiot. Persephone feels no pity for him when he gets ill later in the evening. 

The next morning, Eyck of Denesle is dead. Persephone had nothing to do with it, but he sent a silent apology to Charon, who he knew would soon have to deal with the pompous ass. 

After this, the dwarves team up with Villentretenmerth to take them through a secret dwarven passage, which Persephone is _not_ a fan of. He wasn’t exactly a fan of heights. Give him the dank underworld over a lush mountaintop any day. 

Villentretenmerth, Téa, and Véa end up falling off the path, and Persephone would be far more perturbed if he wasn’t fully aware that the man was actually a dragon and wouldn’t let his bodyguards die. Persephone, Geralt, and Yennefer continued without them.

Geralt retired to Yennefer’s tent that night, and Persephone entertained himself by working on his latest ballad. In the morning the dwarves are gone, and Geralt and Yennefer rush after them. Persephone chases after them, not wanting to stay behind. During the scuffle, he presses up against the wall and subtly helps Villentretenmerth defend his unborn child, which the dragon nods his thanks for after the battle is over. 

Villentretenmerth then pulls Geralt and Yennefer aside to thank them, when he mentions that Geralt tied Yennefer to him with his last wish from the djinn.

While this is no surprise to Persephone, it seems that Yennefer hadn’t known about that little fact. 

She explodes in anger, and she and Geralt have a huge argument before Villentretenmerth, trying to help, reveals that Yennefer will never regain her fertility and that Geralt will lose her regardless of his wish. Yennefer, furious, storms off.

Persephone walks towards Geralt and places a hand on his shoulder. “Geralt-”

Geralt whirls around, fury in his eyes. “Damn it, Jaskier! Why is it whenever I find myself in a pile of shit these days, it’s you, shoveling it!”

Persephone reels back in shock. “Well, that’s not fair-”

“The Child Surprise, the djinn, all of it! If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands!”

Geralt turns around, and Persephone sees Borch move forward, furious on his behalf, but Persephone holds up a hand and shakes his head.

“Right, then. If that is your wish, Witcher, then I shall grant it. For your sake, I hope you don’t see me again any time soon.”

Despite his words, Persephone is not truly angry. He’s forgiven the Witcher already. If Geralt never wants to see him again in his life, then Persephone will indeed grant his wish. But when Geralt dies, he will certainly see him again. Hopefully, they could reconcile then, but if Geralt stays angry then Persephone will stay his king instead of his friend. 

Persephone gives one last nod to Téa and Véa, and walks out of the cave, knowing that Villentretenmerth will follow him. 

“Are you alright, your majesty?” the dragon asks.

Persephone gives him a small smile.

“I will be. This is not my first heartbreak and it will not be my last.”

Villentretenmerth nodded. “Would you like an escort back down the mountain?”

Persephone shook his head. “Thank you, noble dragon, but no. I think I’m going to go home early this year.”

Villentretenmerth bowed his head once more. “Then I wish you safe travels, your majesty.”

Persephone nodded and reached around his neck to pull out his black opal necklace.

***

Hades runs his fingers through Persephone’s hair as he finishes telling his husband about the disastrous “dragon hunt”. When Persephone has run out of words to say, Hades gives a hum.

“I’m sorry, petal. The Witcher’s words were cruel and unfair. But you’re home now. It’ll be alright.”

Persephone raises his head, smiling softly, and gives his husband a sweet kiss.

“Yes, my heart. It will be.”

  
  



	2. Sequel Posted!

Well, it took me over a month, but the second part of the series, Love, Run, has been posted! I hope you enjoy it!

**Author's Note:**

> Next up: Love Run!


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